Saliva
by The.Orange.Ninja.Assassin
Summary: It was the one night that changed his life, turning him into something he didn't want to be. M for gore, language and sexual content between two males. Don't like? Don't read then.


A/N: Heya! This is LPR with another oneshot! -confetti-  
I'm not entirely sure whether this _is_ that scary or not, but oh well...  
I Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't DeathNote -goes to cry about that fact-

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He had been thirteen years old.

The only thing that he actually remembered well about that one night was that it was terrifying.

He had been asleep. Peaceful, yet light sleep (he'd never slept deeply, it was too dangerous). He was dreaming, but had forgotten it when the feeling of fingers raking through his hair woke him up.

His eyes flickered open slowly, blotches and dots of colour stained his sight before subsiding like curtains being pulled back to reveal the show behind them.

He was in his room, on his bed. His blanket, however, had been pulled away from him, letting cold air lick his bare skin. He was wearing only boxers, a habit of his. The black, gray-lined garment was precariously low on his bony hips, it's patterned waistband a little too big for his frail frame.

He tried to look around, but seemed to be under some sort of spell, unable to see properly or move at his own accord. He could only lie there rigidly and awkwardly as cold fingers continued to separate his inky locks slowly.

The fingers started to lower from his midnight-black hair to his cheek. They glided over his cheekbones, traced his jaw, ran across his lips, stroked his nose and touched his neck.

They were gentle, almost too gentle. Shivers of both fear and pleasure shuttled across his spine as the unseen fingers moved almost languidly over his skin. Everything started to become hot, as opposed to the cold weather of the outside world which crept like a burglar of heat into the room. Warmth rushed through his veins, making a bee-line towards the middle region of his pale body.

With more effort than before, he started to search for the owner of the hand. He turned his head a little to the left, he froze in horrid surprise when he came face-to-face with wide, empty eyes, pasty skin and fine features framed with ebony. The twin orbs gazed fixedly into his own, locking him in place with their intensity.

Everything seemed to go into slow-motion as the single hand was joined by it's twin and started to descend down his bare torso. The hands' body moved from beside him to loom over his own and layed it's weight lightly right on top of his heating groin.

The hands started to wander around him, passing over jagged ribs, curving over his sides and sometimes returning to his face.

While one hand stayed attached to his milky skin like an overgrown parasite, still slowly creeping over it, leaving an invisible trail of fingerprints, the other rose to the now shadowed face of off-white skin and inky obscurity.

A wet, nearly obscene sound started to echo through the room. He stared wide-eyed as the hand descended again, it's forefinger slick and shiny with...

His fingers curled, gripping the mattress beneath him nervously.

... Saliva.

Before he could say or do anything -not that he felt he could anyway-, the wet pointer pressed wetly onto his torso, on the right side of his chest, just underneath his nipple.

A gasp escaped escaped his warm mouth, sounding unaturally loud in the hot silence of the room.

A line of transparent liquid down his body, in a straight line. It ended about level to his belly button.

Wide, horrified eyes stared at the poised finger on the shivering skin. It stayed there, as if it was deciding which way to go next.

The finger dragged itself across his flat stomach, leaving a slightly fainter line of glistening liquid behind itself.

It took him far too long to realize through his hazed thoughts that none other than an 'L' was drawn on his body.

"It's you." A voice whispered. He wasn't even sure who had said those words as they penetrated the quiet.

The saliva-slicked finger pulled away, forming a string that shone against the moonlight like dull neon. It broke, puddling at the end of the second line almost perfectly.

He almost spoke when the wet finger moved to his lips, coating them with the transparent, thick paint. His lips opened in shock, allowing the pointer to slip in. He tried to grab at the finger's wrist and pull it away. But the other hand caught his own trembling hand like a hawk and pinned above his head. He tried with his other hand, but was caught and imprisoned the same way with the same spidery hand.

The finger poked his tongue and felt the inside of his cheek, scraping against his teeth. The feeling was foreign and unnerving, he fisted his hands as he tried to ignore it. He could feel his cheeks becoming aflame with shame.

He struggled, becoming claustrophobic as the shadowed face drew closer to his own. He started to feel warm breath glide across his cheeks like sinister silk. He didn't dare bite down on the finger, afraid of the reaction he may suffer.

He couldn't bare to look in front of him, so he rolled his eyes back towards the ceiling. He tensed impossibly more as lips pressed onto his neck. They were soft and gentle, yet harsh and dominating at the same time. The lips parted as an almost scalding tongue started to travel across him.

He wanted to scream. Wanted to yell for help or disappear like smoke under that tongue and those hands. He wanted to be untouched, virginal, pure. He had to be, if he wanted to keep his title, his status, his name.

The tongue dipped down, leaving it's trail of fluid and retracing the drying out 'L'. He almost screamed when his bellybutton was penetrated by the wet muscle. The heat that licked his insides was focused around an idea he never thought he'd feel heat in and it was only getting warmer by the second.

The terror that raced through him the whole time ascended all the more when the tongue lowered still.

_'No. No, no, no. Fucking hell no!'_

He struggled all the more as the warm moisture was painted right on top of the waistband of his boxers, clinging to the faint hairs that populated the certain area. Tears finally sparkled from his eyes desperately. He wanted to numb it all, his trapped hands, his stained chest, his tainted mouth; he wanted to numb it into nothingness.

The tongue travelled from hip to hip one, twice, three times, causing him to curl his toes, screw his eyes shut and clench his teeth. Gasps escaped him, vocalizing his distress. He didn't know whether to cry or smile when the tongue left him finally.

His tears were licked roughly away when he only wanted them to be wiped; the saliva was rubbed into his skin when he wanted to wash it away with soap and water; his hands were trapped when he wanted to use them to push away the nightmare before him.

It only got worse.

The lips traced his damp cheek and ran along his jaw, down onto his neck. One small, delicate kiss. Then another, more aggressive and possessive than before.

He didn't have a voice to scream with as teeth sunk into his neck, burying themselves into his pulsing flesh and that damned tongue darting out like a morbid hummingbird to taste his blood greedily. He could only tilt back his head back, hoping to make it just a little more comfortable, a little more bearable to experience.

His blood trickled past the lips and tongue, escaping down his throat and blooming on his mattress. His faint, broken sobs were the only thing he heard and the pain on his neck was the only thing he could feel apart from the helplessness that chewed his mind like it was chewing gum.

Cold air beat his flesh like a whip when the blood-stained mouth finally withdrew. Dark red dripped from the thin, now twisted into a smile lips.

They pressed roughly onto his own for second before withdrawing.

The weight at his middle disappeared and the shadow shrunk away.

He was left there, bleeding, trembling and mutely crying. His heart crumbled like ash and his eyes simply couldn't stop leaking salty liquid. He instinctively licked his lips, tasting his own blood, mixed with the sweetness of sugar.

He knew...

B knew that he would be the only person in the world that would see that side of L.

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A/N: If you didn't catch it already, it was L that was on top. Naughty detective. XP A creepy L is a morbidly sexy L though, what can I say? XD  
I hope you enjoyed it. Please review to tell me what you think of it, it would make my day. :)

Laters, y'all!


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